


Transmissible

by GalahadWilder



Series: Sick Days [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-07-07 01:51:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15898485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalahadWilder/pseuds/GalahadWilder
Summary: Marinette’s cold is passing, but the embarrassment is not—they may be dating, and they may be partners, but she still can’t keep it together around Adrien the way she can around his alter ego.Which is a problem, because he’s caught her cold—and the absolute lack of filter that came with it.





	1. A Class Act

**Author's Note:**

> IT’S HAPPENING! IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING! THE EVENT ONE BILLION YEARS PROPHESIED!
> 
> Sorry it took so long to get started on this one. I had like seven false starts before I got an opening chapter I actually liked.

The schoolyard of the College Francoise DuPont was entirely too quiet that Monday morning for a miracle. Especially given how many miracles had been happening in Paris lately, all of them loud and awash in a storm of pink ladybugs. Yet this one, this early in the morning, was almost silent, understated, a very different sort of miracle.

Of all the impossible things Alya had witnessed in the past few months, she’d never expected to see Marinette Dupain-Cheng _arrive early for school_.

”Nette?” Alya said, frozen in the doorway of Madame Bustier’s classroom. “You’re... awake.”

Marinette smiled weakly—the cold seemed to have passed, but touches of it were still evident in the redder splotches on her face. “Coughed myself awake and couldn’t get back to sleep,” she said. “I had some thinking I needed to do.”

Alya grinned and slid in next to her in her usual seat, jostling her with her shoulder. “That thinking wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain boy whose bed you slept in, would it?”

Marinette groaned, pressing her palms into her eyes. “I don’t even remember that happening,” she said.

”So you don’t know how you ended up snuggled up in _Adrien’s_ bed?”

Marinette’s hands shifted downwards to cover her reddening face. “Oh God,” she squeaked. “He’s gonna—he’s gonna—”

”I’m going to what?” Adrien said as he walked through the door.

Marinette jerked upright, her eyes blowing wide and her mouth sealing shut—she looked like she’d swallowed her tongue. A tiny whine emanated from her throat.

Alya stifled a laugh. Business as usual, then.

”Oh, I, uh, I got you something,” Adrien said to Marinette, swinging his backpack down onto his desk. He reached into the back pocket, and, with a flourish, produced a—

A slightly flattened red rose.

Alya choked on her own spit.

Marinette yelped, snatching her bag and holding it in front of her progressively reddening face, as if the tiny purse could hide her from the gaze of the boy she had been obsessed with for months. “Adrien,” she hissed. “We agreed no PDA!”

Alya was absolutely flabbergasted. Forget Marinette getting to school early, _this_  was the real miracle: Adrien and Marinette, together at last?

She leaned forward. “How long has this been going on?” she said with a smirk.

Adrien’s head snapped to face her, and it was apparent that he hadn’t even realized she was in the room before that moment—every scrap of his attention had been focused on Marinette.

Marinette dropped her forehead onto her desk. ”If there is a God,” she whimpered, “please let me die.”


	2. Not Out of the Woods

When Marinette woke up that morning—coughing, as she’d told Alya—she’d believed the whole weekend had been a fever dream. Discovering her crush was her partner, and that he felt the same way about her that she did about him? Him finding out about her obsession and finding it _cute_? Her revealing her identity as Ladybug to her parents, and then being... well, mostly okay with it?

Impossible, all of it.

She’d wanted to ask her parents if anything had happened, if the things she remembered were true, but she couldn’t think of a way to do that without giving away her secret, just in case. They said nothing about it to her, and Tikki was still sleeping in her purse, so she had to assume, just to be safe. It was perhaps the most nerve-wracking morning of her life.

By the time she got to school, she’d managed to convince herself that she’d imagined the whole thing, that it was all some fantasy dreamed up by her addled mind. Boys didn’t just suddenly end up dating you like that.

And then Adrien walked into class with that STUPID rose.

She wanted to be mad at him, she really did. She’d explicitly told him last night to keep their relationship a secret for now, that she wasn’t ready for everything to be out in the open, that she didn’t want any public displays of affection yet—if Chat’s behavior towards Ladybug was any indication, the boy would go overboard and probably fill her locker with chocolates and rose petals if given half the chance—and that she wanted everything kept quiet. Just for the sake of her own dwindling sanity if nothing else.

But even that wasn’t enough, because he’d given her a rose, and he kept sending these dreamy glances at her whenever Mme. Bustier turned away, and doodling hearts on his notebook instead of taking notes, and every time their eyes met she nearly dropped her pen and could feel her skin flushing higher and higher until it reached the tips of her ears, and she was so caught up in the fact that Adrien Agreste was her boyfriend that she hadn’t realized that _her boyfriend was Adrien Agreste._

 _It’s just Chat Noir,_ she tried to tell her brain, attempting to calm all the tiny screaming Marinettes that were racing around in a panic inside her skull. _We’ve dealt with Chat Noir before._

 _NO IT ISN’T!_  One of the Scarynettes helpfully screamed, supplying a brief memory of that one time she’d seen Adrien in a swimsuit and hadn’t been able to speak for a full minute. She felt the back of her neck grow even hotter at the memory, and then Adrien chose that exact moment to turn back to her with that soft smile of his and _dammit girl did you just meep at him again????_ _Think about something else, think about something else..._

She wondered what Alya was making of this whole situation.

 _No not that!!!!_ screamed a Scarynette, but _wow_  was it too late, she’d fallen asleep in Adrien’s _bed_  and now they were _dating_  and what must that look like to Alya without context?

”Marinette?” Mme. Bustier said. “You look a little red. Are you sure you’re all right?”

Marinette opened her mouth and tried to say _fine_ , but panic seized her still-raw throat, and all that came out was a rasping, hacking cough.

Alya’s hands grabbed her, steadying her, while everyone else—Bustier especially—looked on in concern. “I think you should go home for another day,” she said. “Get some more rest.”

Marinette could only nod.

At which point Adrien struggled to his feet. “I’ll... take her... hum. Hm. Home!” he slurred.

Everyone turned to look at him, granting them a perfect view of his knees giving out and him dropping like a stone to the floor.


End file.
